Defy Respect
by Yamamuri Sadako
Summary: My fears come alive, in this place where I once died. An Nny/Edgar Vargas ficcy. R/R
1. ch 1

Defy Respect  
  
Ch. 1: Caught  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Johnny, but I tend to wonder if he owns ME...I am Jhonen's slave. Lines are taken from one of the JTHM issues; I can't remember which one though...A Perfect Circle owns the song 'Orestes' from which a line or two is taken.  
  
"You forget all that a skilled vivisector can do with living things..." Dr. Moreau, from H.G. Wells' 'The Island of Dr. Moreau'  
  
A tall man, skinny and stringy in appearance, approached a shorter man of the same build. The shorter man's glasses reflected the dim light from this underground prison in which he was held. The taller man clenched his teeth in mental agony.   
  
"What is it?" asked the shorter man from his restraints, as though trying to strike up a friendly conversation.  
  
"Silence, servile mite!" the taller male snarled, fighting to ignore the screams in his head.  
  
Both men looked quite a lot alike in build. They had long limbs, but the taller of the two was very pale, he had dark circles under his eyes, making him look like a mix of a raccoon, and, given his lanky appearance and pale skin, a plant that was constantly kept in the dark.  
  
The shorter man attempted to make conversation again.  
  
"Could these restraints be loosened some? It is rather painful..."   
  
The taller of the two growled under his breath.  
  
"I advise you to hold your tongue until I am ready for conversation," he said quietly.  
  
The restrained man tilted his head upward, thus, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" asked the taller man, suddenly.  
  
The shorter man nodded.  
  
"Why are people so...unpleasant?"  
  
The shorter man shook his head.  
  
"I don't know,"   
  
The taller man overruled him and continued.  
  
"Honestly, how can one care so much about trivial things? How can one respect something, people in this case, when that something seems to defy respect?"  
  
The restrained man shook his head again.  
  
"I do not know,"  
  
The taller of the two suddenly fell to one knee. He screamed, pulling at his hair.  
  
"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND!!!!!!" he cried. He suddenly began singing part of a song under his breath.  
  
"One more medicated, peaceful moment...  
  
Just give me one more medicated, peaceful moment  
  
I don't want to feel this overwhelming hostility  
  
I don't want to feel this overwhelming hostility"   
  
He rose, panting for breath. He looked rather nervous.  
  
"Excuse me for a moment, would you?" he whispered. He opened a door and walked into a room, shutting the door with a loud snap. There was suddenly the sound of shattering glass, and an anguished scream. The taller man staggered out of the room, a hand over his left eye. He bit his tongue as he extracted a piece of glass from the flesh from under his eye. The shorter man realized that his captor had bashed his head into a mirror. The pale man threw the piece of bloody glass to the ground. It shattered yet again, leaving a red splat on the dusty wooden floor.  
  
"Now, where were we?" asked the madman, brushing a trickle of blood from his face.  
  
The shorter man just stared in shock.  
  
"I-I'm not sure, should I think up a topic?" he asked, his voice quiet.  
  
The bleeding man sighed.  
  
"Very well, What-Ever-Your-Name-Is,"  
  
The shorter man spoke up.  
  
"Edgar. My name is Edgar. Edgar Vargas,"   
  
The madman smiled, blood trickling down his face, slightly dripping down his upper lip.  
  
"I'm Johnny C."  
  
A/n: Bloody hell! That was hard, not using names until the end...Fook... Oh God, I'm depressed and there are Twinkies in the house...Not good... The farther this story goes, the more I will continue to pour my broken soul into Johnny's character. Yes, this story is written on a rather personal level (I'm NOT homosexual, but I am insane...Insanity is as insanity does...I do not mean to offend anyone who is gay! So please have mercy and help yourselves to the Twinkies.) I'm suffering from mental anguish at the moment, so please: flame nicely. Oh joy. It's 9:30 PM. Medication time... 


	2. ch 2

Defy Respect  
  
Ch. 2: Recollections  
  
A/n: Okay, this is where it gets personal for me, in some of the flashbacks. (Munches on fifth Twinkie) Why the hell am I eating these things? I loathe Twinkies... Oh to hell with it! I'm suffering from insomnia for the fourth night in a row...Boy, my counselor's gonna be questioning me when I mention sleep depravation...I give Johnny a full last name, don't hurt me...It's different than what it is in 'Smile'...So don't get your hopes up, folks, Squee is not here!  
  
Edgar watched the drop of blood trickle into Johnny's mouth. The maniac swallowed, grimacing at the coppery taste.  
  
"I've forgotten what blood tastes like. I do not miss it," Johnny said.  
  
Edgar spoke up.  
  
"I knew someone in high school named Johnny. Seeing you with blood trickling down your face reminded me of him,"  
  
Johnny sneered.  
  
"I'm glad I could help you reminisce," he said, sourly.  
  
"No, the Johnny I knew was really unpopular, he was beaten up so many times, I thought he'd finally died,"  
  
Johnny turned, his back facing Edgar. A faint smile spread across the madman's face.  
  
'I did, Edgar, I finally did die,' he thought.  
  
'In mind and soul, but not in body, even though I wish I did,'  
  
~~FLASHBACK~~  
  
Two burly jocks pinned a lanky, struggling youth to a locker.   
  
"Pay up, Caspian!" said one, while his friend had the young man by the shoulders.  
  
"I-I-I told you, Roland, I don't have any money!" the lanky youth gasped.  
  
Roland sneered.  
  
"You've used that excuse three times this week, you're hiding something," he turned to two more jocks who were watching.  
  
"Search him,"  
  
A fifteen-year-old Johnny screamed in his head. He wasn't hiding anything. But, he knew what was going to happen once the dense morons found out he wasn't lying. They'd beat the shit out of him, laugh at his pain, and then leave him on the cold linoleum floor, shaken, bruised and bleeding. Then, other students would just look at him as they passed. No one was going to play the Good Samaritan. No one ever did.  
  
~~END FLASHBACK~~   
  
Johnny felt a tear fall down his cheek, mixing with another drop of blood. He brushed it away and turned to face Edgar.  
  
"I knew him, too. He did die. On the night of senior prom, remember?" Johnny said. He pulled down his right shirtsleeve a little, reveling a vertical scar on his wrist to himself. His first suicide attempt.  
  
~~FLASHBACK~~  
  
Eighteen-year-old Johnny C. sighed angrily, wiping away the blood from a cut he received from the high school's crack addict.   
  
'Shit,' he thought.  
  
'I'm even hated by the fooking chem-head! Why do I even bother to find a job? I'll just suffer what I do now ten times over. I won't last a minute in the real world.'  
  
He pulled out a knife from a kitchen drawer. He then brought it down on his wrist.  
  
~~END FLASHBACK~~  
  
"Yeah, I remember," replied Edgar.  
  
"I was the one who found him. I saw him off to the hospital. That was the last I saw of him."  
  
The restrained man sighed sadly.  
  
"I still see it. All the blood. I feel guilty. I should've helped more."  
  
Johnny swallowed.   
  
"There was nothing you could have done. He's still suffering anyway."  
  
Vargas looked confused.  
  
"How do you know?" he asked.  
  
Johnny sighed, showing Edgar the scar on his wrist.  
  
"He's me."  
  
Edgar's glasses slipped off his face and shattered. Johnny was shocked to see that Vargas was smiling.  
  
A/n: ME NO SLEEP...Z? ME NO SLEEP...Z? 


End file.
